Something in Nerith's posture changed, not dramatically, just a small settling, like a person who has been holding themselves carefully for a long time and has just found a surface they trust enough to put some of the weight down on.
"O-okay..." she said.
It was a small word, but the way she said it meant more than the word usually carried.
Rex looked at the woven arrangement on the table again.
"The flowers," he said. "Which ones did you use?"
Nerith glanced at them. "Oh, uhm, there's the Windbell for clarity, and then there's also the Silverleaf for gratitude."
"The small blue ones here in the center are heart mosses." She paused. "They only grow in places where the natural energy is calm and consistent."
"And you wove them this morning," Rex said. "In the courtyard."
"Yes, early in the morning... before the sun had risen."
"So the natural energy around this inn," Rex said, "is calm and consistent."
Nerith looked at him.
